Painting Your Portrait
by ilovethesoundofviolins
Summary: Sebastian is an artist in need of a muse. Enter Kurt, who is unaware that he's Sebastian's inspiration. AU after 3x05.


**Author's Note: **This concept for this is based off of a prompt I got on Tumblr from hummelstonsmythe six months ago. It took me forever to finish both parts of it but now that it's finished, I'm posting it here :)

* * *

On the first of November, Sebastian was having his second afternoon meeting with Blaine Anderson, the "dreamy" ex-lead Warbler from Dalton, in the Lima Bean. When they met up there, Sebastian offered to buy Blaine's latte, as would anyone that was trying to turn a casual meeting into a date, and sat with the younger, hazel-eyed boy at a table for two. Sebastian talked up his experiences in Paris and verbally pushed his accomplishments on Blaine, perhaps in an attempt to impress him, but mostly just to see what he'd think. Blaine, in turn, was a blushing, smiling, blundering mess in Sebastian's presence, telling him that he was "out there" and staring wide-eyed when Seb called him, "super hot."

Sebastian was far from fazed when Blaine said the word "boyfriend." While he was a little bit disappointed that Blaine seemed to be the type to stick to his "taken" guns, Sebastian figured that this boyfriend would be no match for him. They usually weren't, anyway. However, he would be pleasantly surprised when, moments after Blaine brought him up, that boyfriend showed up at the Lima Bean and interrupted them on their date.

"Who's really great?"

Sebastian saw Blaine's reaction first—a flash of humiliation, a red flush staining his cheeks, and even more blundering and faltering than before—and then, second, he saw the boyfriend.

Kurt.

"U-uhm—you!" Blaine blurted out suddenly. "We were just—talking about you—"

Sebastian saw Kurt for the first time, standing tall over them with striking, pearly skin, dark brown hair, and a modest blue and white coat, and he had to do slight double take in his head.

Kurt wasn't looking at him—rather, his sharp eyes were directed at Blaine in a line of suspicious questioning—but Sebastian was still glancing up at Kurt nonetheless. Sizing him up, in a sense. Trying to gage what this meant when it came to he and Blaine. Trying to determine what he thought about Kurt, aesthetically. He hadn't been expecting this antagonist to come in his plot line.

"Sebastian," Blaine said now, "This is my—boyfriend—Kurt—who I was just—wow—"

And at this point, Kurt's eyes flashed quickly towards Sebastian, and what must've been a smile on his face before had turned into an icy, steely glare.

Kurt scanned Sebastian up and down. Sebastian noticed.

Kurt then stuck out his hand, put on a smile that was much more fake, and when Sebastian reached out to give him an obligatory handshake, he squeezed Sebastian's hand in his, firmly. Establishing conflict.

"Pleasure," he said, in a voice that sounded _silky, _if that was even possible.

Sebastian drew in a breath, glanced at Kurt's long exterior from head to toe, and then smiled in a closed-off way, raising his eyebrows at the tall boy in front of him.

Sebastian's mind went into survey mode.

His eyes became camera lenses, snapping Kurt's dynamics and features, and the artist in him began labeling everything that he saw.

Kurt, Blaine's boyfriend, was—divine. Defined cheekbones. Bright, large eyes. Pale, blemish-less skin. Broad shoulders, slim torso, perfectly long legs. He was out of the ordinary, with facial features and limbs and facets that were clearly defined and wonderfully proportionate; Kurt was one of those people that were _made_ to be drawn, that were practically asking to be drawn because of their spectacular physical clarity. Sebastian was always like this, noticing sharp angles and equal measurements and such on other human beings. He was an observer of the aesthetics of the body because he lived to capture the body's beauty, make it live and breathe on paper.

People who looked like Kurt did gave him reasons to do so; they gave him inspiration.

Sebastian didn't know if he'd ever see Kurt or Blaine again. After that afternoon, and after being slightly annoyed by Kurt and Blaine's obvious fluffiness as a couple, Sebastian gradually stopped bothering with Blaine. Blaine was forgettable, anyway. However, for the next day or two, Sebastian found himself slightly mimicking that other boy's, Kurt's, physical attributes in his daily gesture sketches. He found himself drawing quick, slashed, charcoal versions of Kurt's frame, as he'd seen it briefly that day; pointed hair, long face, and even longer arms and legs that splayed out in all directions.

After a while, the gestures in his sketchbook became generic again, but the faint image of Kurt still hadn't quite left his brain.

A week or so later, Sebastian went to the Lima Bean again. The Dalton senior went there sometimes whenever he needed a change of environment. He liked drawing in the crowded coffee shop because he was around moving people; and every once in a while, he found a person that he could watch for a moment and use as a model.

On his first return back to the coffee shop since he'd met up with Blaine, Sebastian saw both Kurt and Blaine again. They were sitting together holding hands over the table, and Sebastian was off to a corner. He hadn't been seen yet, but just to get on Blaine's nerves (and to get another whim of inspiration by looking at Kurt), Sebastian walked over to the both of them and greeted them with a wide, mischievous smile.

Kurt was not pleased with this. At all. He rolled his eyes and then pierced Sebastian with them, as Sebastian looked at Blaine and asked him how he was doing.

"Excuse me, hi," Kurt said, snapping his fingers for Sebastian's attention, which he very quickly gained. "We were having a nice, quiet coffee date before you and your long, lemur-looking face showed up and decided to interrupt—"

Sebastian laughed internally at this, raising an eyebrow at Kurt as the boy continued to speak. Sebastian's muse had been turned on again, and this time he was specifically surveying Kurt's face. The angles in his bone structure were sharper, to Sebastian, now that Kurt was visibly irritated. He seemed to be one of those people who was actually better looking when they were angry. Gorgeous looking, actually.

"So, if you don't mind, we would both appreciate it if you'd go back to your mole hill, or your dark cave, or wherever it is you came from," Kurt finished, with a spark in his eyes.

Sebastian appreciated Kurt's snark. Kurt smiled fake, and Sebastian gave him a smile that was just as fake back.

"I'll see you around," Sebastian said to Blaine, making it a point to wink at him and not look at Kurt.

Sebastian left the two of them there and then went back to the drawing board.

At his single table, in the corner of the coffee shop, he flipped to a new page in his sketchbook and quickly drew a Chibi version of angry!Kurt, flailing it's arms, screaming, and fuming from its head. He glanced at Kurt from a distance for reference, but for this, he didn't really need to look. Kurt's little outburst from real life was enough to make a cartoon from, and Sebastian sort of smiled at it as he dated it, signed it, and then was done. He caught another glimpse of Kurt's full body when Kurt and Blaine got up and left the Lima Bean, and that was the last he saw of the light-eyed boy in person for about another week.

After that day, Sebastian would go home from school and draw lots of different things; some of them still had traces of Kurt. They weren't entirely _of _Kurt, because he still hadn't seen enough of him to do that, but they did resemble him a little. He continued to draw his gestures, and when he drew town landscapes or city streets, he'd always manage to make a random citizen bear Kurt's body type and style. He drew yaoi, as usual, and a few of his boy characters had, for example, hair similar to Kurt's, or a similar eye shape. He was able to capture some of Kurt's essence on a page, based on what he remembered. Whims of pencil that would be familiar to someone who knew Kurt well, but not to someone who _wanted _to know Kurt well. They were just a taste.

A few days later, it was raining, and Sebastian was in the Lima Bean again, studying for an exam. He saw Kurt walk in up ahead, and he paused his reading accordingly. Kurt was alone this time for whatever reason; from the looks of things, it seemed like he was there to study as well. This time, Sebastian stayed put when Kurt found a table for one, set up his coffee and his laptop, and got to work. Instead of going to get a closer look at Kurt, like before, Sebastian stayed where he was and took out his sketchpad. Kurt looked astoundingly good that day, even from yards away. Sebastian took quick glances at Kurt, careful not to be seen, and then sketched Kurt as he saw him exactly: legs twisted beneath the table, covered by tight khaki pants; long, agile fingers curled around his coffee cup; striped scarf that covered his neck and fell in waves over his chest; thick brown strands of hair that stood up and back in a perfect pompadour. After about ten minutes, he had a decent, not accurate, but decent image of Kurt. It was enough so that it looked like him, and enough so that Sebastian would probably remember who he'd been looking at this day, when he went back and viewed it later. Sebastian dated it, sighed it, and squiggled a title, "I think he's studying," in the corner of the page; and that was the first of many similar drawings that would come.

For the next month or so, just about, Sebastian did the same thing. Whenever he went to the Lima Bean and just happened to see Kurt there, he drew him from afar. Sometimes, Kurt was with Blaine on a date (but Sebastian would ignore Blaine then, and only pay attention to Kurt), or sometimes he was with other friends (Sebastian remembered seeing a black girl and a girl with bangs once), or sometimes he was alone. Sometimes, Kurt actually saw Sebastian sitting there; when that happened, Sebastian would almost always smirk or wave in his direction. Usually, Kurt gave some kind of annoyed reaction, which would then spur another anime-version of this from Sebastian. Every once in a while, Kurt smiled back in a way that said, "I hate you," and Sebastian always took that as some form of personal progress between them. Regardless of how Kurt reacted to him, or didn't, Sebastian made a habit of drawing Kurt, sitting in a chair at a coffee table. Every time, his pictures of the boy became more and more realistic. He erased and re-erased whenever he didn't get something right; whenever a cheekbone wasn't high enough, whenever a nose wasn't pointed enough, whenever an eyebrow wasn't thin enough, and whenever a leg wasn't long enough. And later, he would fill each one in with color, using watercolor or pencils or tempera paint, here and there.

Kurt was like his sitting model some afternoons, and he didn't even know it.

There was one day in particular where Sebastian realized that he wanted more from Kurt as a model—more inspiration. On this day, Sebastian happened to go towards the coffee line and realize that Kurt was standing at the end of it, staring down into his cell phone. Sebastian came up behind him and didn't say anything at first, taking in a few of Kurt's details from behind—the short strands at the base of his hairline, how long his neck actually was, where his shoulder blades protruded, and how exactly his back, ass, and legs were proportioned. He stored those snapshots on the right side of his brain and then gave his eyes a break; gave his mind a moment to imagine how he'd use these new details for his next portrait, and then remembered where he was.

Kurt slightly turned to the side at one point, and then he did a double take and realized that Sebastian was right behind him, glancing up ahead at the menu. Sebastian looked down when Kurt noticed him and smiled in that same old derisive way.

"Oh, hey, Kurt," he said, with far too much irritating enthusiasm.

Kurt crossed his arms over his chest, and was that a slight, tightly-wound smile that occured on his lips for a second?

"Hello, Sebastian," he said, dryly, making swift, direct eye contact.

Kurt turned around and then stepped up to order his coffee. Before he left Sebastian's area, he gave him a brief dirty look. Guess Kurt wasn't over the fact that Sebastian had "tried to steal his boyfriend" that one day. Sebastian didn't really care.

Several minutes later, once he was back at his table, Sebastian was starting a tentative body study of Kurt in his sketchpad, which he would finish within the next couple of days. It was nothing but unfinished halves and arms, backs, and legs, guesstimates as to how Kurt would look in tighter clothes or something. The figures were never naked—Sebastian wouldn't go that far yet—but the simple clothes that he drew on Kurt's pictures definitely showed some skin. Sebastian let his imagination go wild with a few of them, especially the ones of Kurt from behind.

For another couple of weeks, after that, the month turned February and Kurt wasn't around the Lima Bean as much. He stopped showing up entirely after a while, and Sebastian found himself at a loss for artistic subject matter. A couple times, Sebastian saw Blaine by himself, though. Blaine stopped to talk to him once or twice, and on one day, Blaine mentioned that he and Kurt had broken up.

"I was the one who messed things up," Blaine said at one point, frowning at nothing. "I don't know if I'll ever get him back."

Sebastian didn't have much to say about this. He wasn't good at expressing fake sympathy, so he didn't. He gave Blaine his distant condolences, and then gladly saw Blaine off. He took a break himself from the Lima Bean, then, almost unconsciously. Something he'd come to look forward to about the place was absent, some of the lights had turned off, so he drew and studied at home for a while instead. When he finally did check the Lima Bean again, still finding it void of his inspiration, he sat there bored for a half hour, and then just got up and left in a hurry. Forgetfully, he left his sketchpad on the table, and didn't realize until hours later, once he was already home in Westerville.

He would've found it right where he left when he went back later, but unfortunately, someone had picked it up before he could get there.

Kurt.

Kurt had decided to go back to the Lima Bean that day, despite the sad way that it reminded him so much of Blaine. He'd been craving a Grande nonfat mocha all day at school, and they just didn't taste as good anywhere else. This place was his favorite, after all.

Once he got his coffee, Kurt decided to study for a while and sat down at the only open table in the shop. He found that a sketchpad with a canvas cover had been left there, so he glanced around attentively, to see if anyone was looking for it. No one was.

Out of curiosity, then, he flipped it over, trying to find a name or address. His mouth fell open slightly and a spark of amusement filled his chest when he recognized the name: Sebastian Smythe. The one who'd been pursing his Blaine. (Well, back when he _was _his Blaine). He looked around again quickly, to see if anyone, or Sebastian himself, was watching; then, when he was sure the coast was clear and people were moving on about him, he flipped open to the first page, and decided to have a look.

Kurt didn't have any reason to dislike Sebastian anymore, he supposed, since Blaine was out of the picture, but he still hadn't appreciated Sebastian's intent back in November. He'd seen Sebastian a lot in the last three months, as he was an even bigger frequenter to the Lima Bean than Kurt was himself. Kurt regarded Sebastian as attractive—who wouldn't?—but he'd always felt irritated whenever Sebastian acknowledged him or Blaine with a smile. He couldn't even really explain why, either. Something about Sebastian just bothered him. As he flipped through the first few sketches of Sebastian's book, now, which were dated from September and October, Kurt didn't find himself very amused. There was nothing interesting. (Not that Kurt could draw anything but stick figures, so who was he to judge). Sebastian was good, and his attention to detail was stellar, but the subject matter was boring, that was the thing. His pictures were of things like trees, and rivers, and rocks, and buildings—save for the scarce few that were detailed, anime versions of boy-on-boy sex, which Kurt usually frowned at and quickly skipped over (he didn't know that cartoons could be so explicitly pornographic, but apparently, with yaoi, they could be).

Then, Kurt found a few blank pages. He thought that the booklet was over, and he'd almost had a mind to close it and then leave it where it was—but first, he stumbled across a blank page with one line of writing on it. An introduction to the next set of drawings.

It said, "The boy with the glasz eyes."

Kurt paused.

He looked around again, cautiously, and then resumed, with the book pulled closer into his body.

On the pages that followed, Kurt found himself. Literally. He was sitting there, blushing and staring and gawking at sketches and portraits that looked just like him, all drawn by Sebastian. The first ones were less detailed—and the Chibi one that was meant to be a picture of him screaming made him both surprised and annoyed—but Kurt could tell who they were of. Then, as the dates went on, the images just got more and more detailed. Wide-eyed, whispering "Oh, my god," to himself several times over, Kurt even began to see drawings in which he recognized some of his own _clothes_ and _scarves_. Sebastian had Kurt down to the outfit. Sebastian had been drawing him, watching him, and copying him while he was here. Often. Frequently. All the time. And the sketches, the portraits of him, were damn good. They were _beautiful._ Especially all the ones of him at the Lima Bean, in color; they had no backgrounds, and no added environment around Kurt's seated figure, but that was what made them all the more striking, what made their bright colors leap from the page and catch Kurt's eye. He read their various titles—"I think he's studying," "I don't think he'll ever notice," "Dark red scarf, gray sweater," and "He bites his tongue when he can't concentrate,"—and felt like each one consequently told a story about him. Kurt was slightly frustrated, worrying his lip between his teeth as he flipped on, because he had a question: why? What was it about him that made Sebastian want to do all this, even when they hardly knew each other? He wasn't sure whether to be skeptical, because this may or may not have meant that he had a stalker or something, or whether to be—well, fucking flattered. Kurt hadn't actively noticed, but a slight smile had started to form his lips, as he went on. He had an entire set of pages dedicated to his image, _his image, _and they didn't seem to ever, ever stop. Hell, it didn't matter who the artist was; whoever it was, they'd drawn Kurt, they'd drawn him a lot, and it made Kurt feel just a little bit better about himself, knowing that he was a work of art to someone. It made him feel pretty damn conceited, after a while.

He took the sketchpad home with him. He didn't know jack shit about Sebastian personally, and it was probably rude of him to steal the book, but he did it anyway.

Later on that night, once he was done with his homework, Kurt laid on his bed and flipped through the rest of the drawings, the ones he hadn't gotten to earlier. He found a few more Lima Bean sketches, and then—_oh. _The body studies. Kurt found hard, rough, detailed pencil sketches of what appeared to be him and his body, or pieces of him and his body, with minimal clothing on. Most of them from behind. These made him both uneasy and, oddly, turned on. What the hell was Sebastian thinking when he made these, when he crafted perfect guesses of Kurt's body and Kurt's muscles?

Kurt got to the end of the book, and then, hell, he didn't know what to do afterwords. He went to bed later, sleeping dreamlessly, and then at school the next morning, he carried the sketchbook with him in his sidebag, staring down at it in class sometimes and still wondering what he should do.

He decided to keep it with him in his bag for the next couple of days, so that if he went to the Lima Bean, he could return it to Sebastian. He didn't really look at the drawings one by one ever again, though he did tear out and keep three or four of the Lima Bean ones because they were _that pretty. _But, a couple days later, well, there Sebastian was in the Lima Bean.

Sebastian was sitting by himself, doing some type of math homework, frowning and working quietly as if he were slightly frustrated.

Kurt took a deep breath, held the book in his arms, and then stood up from his own table, approaching Sebastian with a steadfast walk. When Sebastian didn't notice him standing there, he cleared his throat pointedly, so that he would be paid attention to.

Sebastian gazed up at him, and then his expression broke into one of surprise. Pleasant surprise.

"Hello, Kurt," he said, glancing down at his homework again, drawing a symbol. "What brings you—"

"Here."

Kurt placed Sebastian's sketchbook down on top of his homework, forcibly, and then crossed his arms, watching as Sebastian slowly recognized his prized possession.

When Sebastian looked up at him again, quickly, with a crooked smile and darkened hazel eyes, Kurt's stomach did a huge flip.

"I found that here the other day," Kurt told him hurriedly, before he could speak. "Saw that it was yours and—kept it—so that no one else would steal it."

Sebastian nodded, turning his tongue over in his mouth, his lips slightly parted. He wanted to know if Kurt had opened it, _so badly, _but he had too much self composure over himself to actually ask.

He smiled, instead, simply. "That's nice of you," he said.

Kurt rolled his eyes, smiling a little too.

Then, Kurt couldn't help it. He watched as Sebastian took the sketchpad and put underneath his textbook, and he felt a little upset to see it go. He sighed, stared down at his feet, and then thought about all the gorgeous work that had been put into that book. It had been of _him, _and he'd be stupid if he didn't get his answer as to why, right now. He wanted to know what the hell was up with his secret-admirer-artist. He _had_ to know.

"So, um, I couldn't help but notice," Kurt spoke, quietly, a faint smile still washed up on his lips. "That several of your little drawings, there, are of—me."

Sebastian looked up at him again.

"Yes," he said, plainly. "They are."

Kurt frowned a little. "Are you—stalking me?" he asked, amused. "Or do you just have a strange fetish for drawing strangers half naked?"

Sebastian smirked; he liked the way Kurt was questioning him about this, questioning him about all of his artwork. It showed that he was interested, curious about the motives behind Sebastian's muse.

"Not stalking you," Sebastian said, noticing again how beautiful Kurt's face was up close. "You and I are both here at the same time, on our own. It's not like I follow you home or anything."

Kurt smiled.

"And I may have a thing for drawing my models half naked," Sebastian added. "Even naked, if Opportunity presents himself."

Kurt perked up at this inside, taking in Sebastian's attractive face and his suggestive tone, but he kept his expression calm and bemused.

"Thank you, for returning it," Sebastian said then.

Kurt nodded, biting his lip.

"You know, if you want me to—_actually_ model for you," Kurt said now, nervously, feeling himself start to blush just at the thought of Sebastian actually staring at him, studying him, "all you have to do is—ask."

Sebastian looked up at him with real surprise, raising his eyebrows.

"I figured that you would never offer," he said, smirking. "You seemed to strongly dislike me back when you_thought_ that I was interested in Blaine."

Kurt found it hard to make words at first; oh, god, what had he just offered to do? And why was he excited to do it?

"Well, I'm—offering now," Kurt said, a little breathless; his heart began to beat harder in his chest as Sebastian's eyes scanned his body one more time.

As if to accept that offer, Sebastian began to pack up his things, standing and sliding all of his books into his bag. Kurt realized how tall Sebastian was, how strong he seemed, and then he particularly stared for longer than he should have at Sebastian's hands as they moved. The hands that pressed pencil to paper and made beautiful, beautiful things.

"Do you have any plans right now?" Sebastian asked, zipping his bag shut, glancing down.

Kurt's heart was beating so hard that he could hardly think straight, and he swore that his vision was even starting to get slightly blurry, but he answered, "No."

Sebastian looked at him. Smiled at him with purpose.

"Come with me," he said, his tone dipping lower.

Kurt gulped, smiled, and followed Sebastian out of the Lima Bean.

Sebastian realized, on the drive over to his place, that needed to make Kurt comfortable. Usually, his appointments with models were much more planned out than this one had been, and Kurt was probably new at this. This, their first modeling, would consist of Sebastian ensuring that Kurt feel safe with him, so that way, he'd be uninhibited with his body. Kurt _was_ anxious, but _god _if he wasn't thinking about those body studies—he still had a strong, lingering curiosity as to what Sebastian had been imagining, how Sebastian had seen him in his head when he'd made them.

Kurt realized that he had never been someone's ideal in this way before. Kurt had never seen himself as someone that others would view and think, _wow, he's beautiful, and muscular, and strong, and I wonder what he looks like without all those layers. _Yes, it had been that way with Blaine, but Blaine was _Blaine. _He'd always been the only one, he'd been the first and the last to love Kurt. Kurt hadn't known that, even while he was taken, he was being—well, _fantasized about_, even if it was just chastely on paper, by another person. By an artist. He wanted to know _more_ about what Sebastian thought of him, had been thinking about him every time he made a portrait of him with his eyes and his mind.

Maybe he was just a model to Sebastian, just something to base beautiful things off of, but even that was enough for Kurt.

He was eager, however, to find out if there was something more.

Sebastian let Kurt inside, led him through the house, and almost didn't believe that his model, the boy from the pages of his sketchbook, was here, willing to let him paint him for as long as he wanted.

(&)

Sebastian took Kurt into a dark, curtained back room in the basement of his house. This room, with dark red walls, was where Sebastian completed all of his larger works of art; there was a couch in the center of the floor and a long desk in the back, covered with a tracing light board and scattered supplies—brushes, ink basins, pencils, rulers—everywhere.

Kurt let his bag down by the desk and unwrapped his scarf from his neck, his heart still beating quickly and his eyes still bright as he watched Sebastian kick off his shoes and remove his coat.

Sebastian noticed that Kurt was watching him; he looked over and smiled.

"Before we get started," he said to Kurt, his voice low. "I have something I'd like to do with you. It's standard for all of my body models. It'll just take a few minutes."

Kurt eyes went wide. He felt like he'd just gotten the wind knocked out of him.

"Sex?" he squeaked, anxiously unbuttoning the snaps on his jacket.

Sebastian laughed a little, taking off his sweater so that he was just in a thin, gray t-shirt. Kurt noticed how defined his arms were, and he bit the inside of his mouth.

"If I was going to have sex with you," Sebastian said, "trust me, it would be for longer than a couple of minutes."

Kurt exhaled, wishing he hadn't said anything. He walked towards the couch slowly, took off his jacket, and rested it on the arm, leaving him in a solid, white button up. Sebastian was walking around to the side of the room where he had his easels, lifting one with his strong arms, carrying it, and placing it a few feet away from the couch.

Sebastian looked at Kurt again, as Kurt stood with his arms around his own waist and waited for instructions.

"Sit on the couch," Sebastian ordered softly. "Lean back, relax as much as you can."

Kurt made eye contact with his artist for a moment, curiously, and then did as he was told. He sat back and settled into the couch cushion. He then watched breathlessly and slightly in alarm as Sebastian walked towards him, peeled off his shirt so that his chest was bare, and then placed his knees on either sides of Kurt's thighs on the couch, hovering over him and placing himself right before him.

Kurt stared with wide, fascinated eyes at Sebastian's position, done in by the sudden proximity and the ease with which Sebastian had drawn so close to him. He felt himself tensing up. He gazed at Sebastian's shoulders, chest, stomach, and arms, wishing he could touch them because they looked so smooth. Sebastian was long and sturdy, lean muscles protruding everywhere they should've been, like the model of what fitness was meant to look like. He must've worked out, a lot.

Kurt dwindled his fingers against the cushions to keep them from grabbing onto, well, anything, and he felt his stomach do a somersault. His mouth fell slightly open as Sebastian smiled at him in slow motion, as if he knew the effect he had on Kurt just by being there.

Then, Sebastian did something simple. A small gesture that would make Kurt's body pay him attention. He touched Kurt's forehead with his thumb, drawing up to Kurt's hairline and then pressing it back gently into his hair. Kurt inhaled slightly at the touch, and at the way that Sebastian, then, slowly brought his thumb down the rest of Kurt's hairline and swiped it to his cheek. He dragged his digit across Kurt's sharp cheekbone and then down to his chin, angling Kurt's face up a bit and then pressing a hard stroke down the rest of his jawline. Kurt breathed deeply and closed his eyes. He didn't know what Sebastian was doing, but it felt good to be touched so minimally; it made him want to be touched more.

Sebastian slid his thumb slowly down Kurt's neck, tracing the faint outline of tendon until his hand found Kurt's chest, only slightly exposed by the white shirt. Sebastian flattened his palm against Kurt's chest beneath the fabric and ran his thumb across Kurt's cold, defined collarbone, back and forth in soft, even strokes. Kurt's breath was ragged as he turned his neck instinctively to give Sebastian more room to touch him, and Sebastian made work of the room, dragging his whole hand across Kurt's chest with a feather light touch, soothingly rubbing his lovely skin. Kurt exhaled erratically through his parted lips and started to himself let go.

After a while, Kurt opened his eyes. Sebastian was still hovering over him, knees pressed up against his thighs, staring at him with a slow burn in his eyes. He was then bringing sure fingertips back up to Kurt's face; caressing his cheekbone affectionately, and then gently and slowly flicking his thumb over Kurt's perfect, pink lower lip. The effect had Kurt's mind slightly reeling. God, this was sexy, whatever it was.

"What is this?" Kurt breathed, feeling faint, as Sebastian drew in closer to him, drew in closer to his eager mouth. "What do you—" Kurt swallowed, eyes glancing down and taking in Sebastian's body, "—call this, that you're doing to me?"

"I'm painting your portrait," Sebastian stated plainly. He smiled again as Kurt closed his eyes. "I don't know if anybody's ever told you this, Kurt, but you're breathtaking. So beautiful."

"I—" Kurt didn't have the words to protest. To find out if Sebastian really meant what he said. He'd never been called _breathtaking. _That was—different.

Why should he have any reason to doubt Sebastian's honesty? This _was _the guy who'd spent hours and hours recreating his image on paper. This _was _the slightly rude near-stranger who was just barely touching him and was already making him feel weightless and intimate, like he was floating on clouds. This was Sebastian the artist and he wanted to paint Kurt's portrait. Whatever that would prove to really mean.

"Thank you," Kurt whispered.

Sebastian leaned in and all of a sudden he was pressing an expert kiss to Kurt's pliant lips. Kurt inhaled quickly, felt Sebastian's mouth covering his, and pressed back with his own, feeling himself slightly unravel. His eyes fluttered shut again. Sebastian's mouth was hot against his own. Kurt barely had time to open his own mouth, turn his head, and take Sebastian's wet lower lip between his teeth hungrily before Sebastian was pulling back abruptly.

Their lips made a faint, popping noise of suction as they suddenly parted.

Sebastian smiled at him as he got off the couch, and Kurt nearly protested outwardly at the loss.

But he still couldn't make any proper words. His head was still swimming because of that kiss, so abrupt, but so fitting. He didn't know what he needed exactly, but he knew that it was more of that. It was more of Sebastian's mouth.

And he still didn't even know Sebastian, and yet all of this felt so _right. _It felt so good to be wanted.

Now Sebastian was moving around the room quickly, still shirtless and only dressed his dark pants, looking around for things. He picked up an eight-inch canvas from the long table at the back, dusting it off, and then he brought it back to his easel. Haphazardly he scooped up two pencils from the floor, kicked over a stool that was perched against the back wall, and then sat down on it off sides, near the easel.

Kurt sat up attentively. Apparently the actual painting was going to begin, or something. Sebastian had his hands resting against his thighs, his arms flexed, his shoulders lazily drooped forward. The attractive brunette seemed so comfortable half-naked, comfortable in the warm skin that stretched over his broad, perfect muscles. It seriously wasn't fair, Kurt thought, for him to look so effortlessly good as he sat there, contemplating.

"Since you're the model, your comfort is my priority," Sebastian said now, staring at Kurt with lens-like precision as Kurt adjusted himself on the sofa. "I won't make you show me anything you're uncomfortable with."

Kurt nodded, and his fingertips were already subconsciously trailing the collar of his own shirt, teasing the first button. "Okay."

Sebastian watched Kurt's hands.

"This is the part where you tell me what you're comfortable with," he prompted, his lips parting errantly.

Kurt felt a little gutsy again, just like he had when he'd offered to even do this whole crazy modeling stint with Sebastian, with his artist. "Okay," he said again.

He pushed the first button of his shirt open with his thumb, and dropped his slow, unsure hands to the next button, keeping his anxious eyes on Sebastian. He kept undoing them, revealing the pale, soft skin of his torso as a lump formed in his throat.

Was this okay? Was he being sexy? The way Sebastian was staring at him, his eyes suddenly the picture of intrigue, and tinted a darker, lustier shade of hazel-green, gave him an indication that, maybe, he was.

"It—i-it helps if I don't have a shirt on, right?" Kurt asked now in an innocent voice, getting down to the last button.

Sebastian swallowed.

He surveyed Kurt's chest, ribs, and waistline, peeking out from the wide, undone opening in the white shirt. Sure, Kurt was a little on the flat side, as in he had no visible pecs, no visible abs, but god everything looked so pale and pearly and smooth. Kurt's collarbones poked out, and his nipples were pink, and his navel dipped in gracefully, followed by just the faintest trail of brown hair. And his waist, and his hips. His waist was tuckered in in just the slightest curve, perfect for two hands to slide in and wrap around it, and his hip bones were angular and jutting out and striking and just _perfect._

"It's perfect," Sebastian said.

He felt his mouth watering already.

Kurt was unreal. Better than he'd imagined when he'd tried to sketch him roughly, never having seen the real thing.

Kurt sat up a bit more on the couch.

"Should I—" he started again, and he seriously hated how high and pitchy his voice was at the moment. He should've been more sure about himself if he was going to talk like this. "—take off the whole shirt? Or—"

"Yes." The reply was quick. Needy. "That's fine."

Kurt's heart beat quick and heavy inside his chest as he did so. He slipped his arms out of the white shirt, folded it quickly and placed it on the arm of the couch with his jacket.

He was topless and just dressed in black, black skinny jeans and boots now. He looked up to see if Sebastian was still staring at him. He wasn't. He appeared to be writing something in dark, smudgy pencil at the bottom of the canvas.

"Now," Sebastian said suddenly, standing up from the stool and walking towards Kurt on the couch. "Spread your legs wide. Sit with one leg up on the couch, crisscross style, and one off, on the floor. Yeah, like that."

Kurt looked up at Sebastian as he took orders, wondering if he was going to be kissed again at any point. He probably shouldn't've wanted Sebastian to kiss im again so much. He started at Sebastian's lips. Sebastian wasn't making eye contact with him, and was instead making eye contact with Kurt's pale body. He was molding the sharp angles of Kurt's body so that he could more easily capture it.

"Put your right arm up, over your head," Sebastian continued, watching as Kurt did his bidding. Kurt placed his limbs the way Sebastian wanted them with so much grace. He wasn't awkward at all. He was a natural at this. "Put your other arm in your lap, on your inner thigh." Kurt's hand touched his own leg, fingers running back and forth over the fabric of his jeans, and Sebastian wondered if he was touching himself like that to give Seb a show.

Sebastian placed his skillful hand on Kurt's jaw like before, stroking his thumb slowly down the bone again. He titled Kurt's chin up just slightly, gazing at the way the dim light from up above was highlighting his model's stunning bone structure.

"Like this," he said softly, pulling his hand back. "Good."

Kurt's lips tilted up into the faintest smile Sebastian had ever seen. And now that Sebastian was staring at him up close again, he swore that he was _never_ going to see another pair of _eyes_ like that, god.

If Kurt was up to it again, he'd have to just paint them on their own: crystal cathedrals of blue, green, and specks of hazel, so bright, so round, so shapely, so exquisite, enveloped by thick, lovely, brown lashes, tastes of heaven.

Sebastian sighed, standing back to observe at Kurt's beautiful everything, slouched back on his couch, waiting for him.

"What?" Kurt prompted. He was so anxious that he had to remind himself to breathe.

Sebastian turned on his heel and went back to the easel, setting himself up in front of it, taking the pencil into his hands.

"I haven't had a model I really liked in—forever," he stated plainly. He brought his hand to the canvas and started making a few elementary strokes with the pencil, eyes flitting over to Kurt every few seconds, just making the basic outlines of the boy and his body.

Kurt swallowed.

"Are you saying that you like me?" he asked.

Sebastian smiled, gazing at Kurt for much longer than he needed to.

"Maybe, he said.

And then, for the next several dry, quiet minutes, he got to work, and fast. His arm flexed as he quickly sketched in Kurt's figure with dark, present lead, on white. As he shaded limbs and curves, scratched in hair and lashes, copied those gorgeously long, never-ending legs, enveloped by the fabric of the jeans he just wanted to peel off, pointed feet covered in rugged combat boots that contrasted with the baby smoothness of his bare skin up top.

"How's it coming?" Kurt asked after a while, his faint voice chafing against Sebastian's silent, diligent focus. He hadn't stopped watching Sebastian since he'd started. He hadn't expected it to be this quiet, but then again, it made sense for it to be.

"You're incredible," Sebastian answered, never taking his eyes away from the canvas. As if that were a measure of progress.

Kurt felt his stomach do that flipping thing again. He was so anxious to see how Sebastian perceived him; he just wanted to see the finished result. Sebastian glanced at him once more, and Kurt both felt like caving in on himself and breaking his stiff position to scoop up that artist across the way in a passionate, grateful kiss.

He didn't know what he'd done to deserve someone praising him like this, but was grateful for whatever it was. Maybe it was just for simply existing.

It had almost been an hour. Sebastian switched to a different, lighter pencil at last, adding in the finishing details. The shadows of Kurt's eyelids, the hair beneath his navel, the nails on his fingertips. Once he was finished, he scribbled his name in the corner, above the notes he'd already taken.

_Sebastian Smythe. _And the title, _The boy I desire. February 28, 2012._

"Done," he muttered.

Kurt stood up accordingly, and walked over to Sebastian's stool, to the other side of the canvas. His eyes widened and his mouth fell slightly open at what he saw.

It was so sharp, so realistic. It looked _just like him, _but in pencil, in grayscale. Sebastian had only drawn a potion of the couch, but Kurt's body was detailed to the tee. It was like looking in a mirror, but seeing a version yourself much more refined than the reality. It was like Kurt was seeing himself through someone else's eyes, without as many flaws, without as many bruises. Seeing himself as someone who was actually beautiful.

And when he read the title, he almost couldn't help the little noise that slipped from the back of his throat.

With a hand touching his own chest, he looked over at Sebastian on the stool, his heart beating like mad. Sebastian had been staring him, at his striking nose, the entire time, watching him watch the picture.

"You," Kurt said softly, yet eagerly, "'desire' me?"

Sebastian's look did not falter.

"I do," he said.

And then Kurt was suddenly kissing him with passion, and Sebastian was dropping the pencils to the ground, using his hands to grip Kurt by his back.

As their tongues wrestled with each other, as Kurt's breath began to pant, Kurt straddled Sebastian's lap on the stool, wrapping his legs around his artist's waist. Sebastian took Kurt in, hoisted him up, and held onto his ass, squeezing the plaint skin in his hands through the fabric of the jeans. Kurt groaned into Sebastian's mouth in response, arching his back and pressing their heated chests together. Sebastian's arms wrapped even tighter around him, grasping skin for purchase, and Kurt's mouth untangled from his, going to bite his earlobe and desperately suck the skin of his neck.

Sebastian was already half hard, boner thick and beginning to press into the front of his pants, and he wasn't going to waste any time. With Kurt still leaving marks in his neck, him still groaning faintly, he stood up and kept Kurt straddled around him, faltering back a bit from Kurt's weight around him. With the back of his heel he knocked the stool back into the floor, but he lifted Kurt up anyway, and Kurt's thighs tightened around him, and Kurt's mouth found his lips.

Sebastian walked them to the couch, throwing himself and Kurt down on it, Kurt's back hitting the fabric. Kurt gasped a bit and watched with wide, ecstatic eyes as Sebastian straddled him, hovered over him, began to make quick work of the belt on his black jeans with one hand. With the other hand, Sebastian began to palm Kurt's erection through the fabric, rubbing it in a back and forth motion and creating friction that quickly made Kurt's entire body arch up and tense ardently.

"Oh, _god _yes," he encouraged, shutting his eyes again. "Sebastian—"

"The first time I saw you," Sebastian growled, cutting him off, as he continued to give Kurt's cock rough, clothed strokes with one hand, tugging the belt from the loops with the other. "You were so fucking gorgeous, Kurt. I wanted to have you."

Kurt stuttered out another groan, hips lifting up towards Seb's hand, watching as Sebastian threw the belt off to the side, listening as the cold metal _clacked _against the ground.

"I didn't know that I did yet, but I did," Sebastian continued, tugging Kurt's jeans down to his thighs with both hands. He then put one hand beside Kurt's head to brace himself, leaned down to suck at Kurt's neck, and used the other hand to slip beneath Kurt's briefs and take his hot, hard, naked length into his grip. "You—are—divine," he continued, breathing against Kurt's neck, beginning to pump his cock. "A work of art in living, breathing, human form. I just want to put my hands all over you, Kurt, you shouldn't even be real—"

Kurt moaned, unable to make anything else coherent come from his mouth, unable to make anything else that could acknowledge Seb's shameless admiration of him. Sebastian kissed him rough, swiping his tongue into his mouth, and then hovered over him, licking his own lips and picking up the quick pace of his hand. Kurt looked down at Sebastian's large, strong hand as it worked over his cock, and he felt himself beginning to shake and sweat already. Sebastian thumbed his precome and slicked it over his length, and Kurt grumbled a quick, breathless profanity as he bucked up into the tight ring of Sebastian's fist.

He wanted to see Sebastian too, so he brought his trembling, eager hands up to the waistband of Sebastian's pants, and with one hand he gripped the hard on that he could see bulging at the front of the pants, tenting the fabric. Sebastian groaned when Kurt touched him, and suddenly, he was sitting up on his knees and making quick work of the pants himself, just wanting to be naked. He got off the couch entirely and slid the pants and his underwear down to his ankles, and Kurt began to struggle to wriggle out of his own jeans as well, staring at Sebastian's strong legs and hard cock as the taller boy, the artist, kicked off his shoes and socks and hurried back over to Kurt.

Kurt was in nothing but black socks when Sebastian came back over him, staring at his cock and the faint thatch of brown hair beneath it. He pressed their bodies into each other. All Kurt could feel was Sebastian's smooth skin and muscle on top of him, their erections rutting against each other as Sebastian ground his hips down into Kurt's, creating heat between them. Kurt had one arm thrown around Sebastian's shoulders, the other gripping into Sebastian's side. He threaded one hand into Sebastian's short, brown hair, tugging at it and scratching his scalp. Sebastian stared at Kurt's hooded eyes as they humped each other, and Kurt was too entranced watching their bodies at first to make eye contact, but eventually, he did.

Eventually he stared up at Sebastian's wired eyes and everything felt more intense. The sweat that slicked their skin felt heavier. He was more aware of the quickness of Sebastian's hips, of the fact that their erections were being dragged across each other and it was making his legs shake and fall open wider on the couch. His cock was already flushed and dripping with precome, hard against his stomach, ever been, and all of a sudden a wave of pleasure, the first wave of increase that would build up to his orgasm, was settling in all over his body.

Sebastian realized that Kurt was coming close already, so he stopped for a moment and went to go get lube and a condom. He stumbled quickly to his desk along the back wall, digging through a number of art supplies and undeveloped photographs until he found the stash of condom and lube he kept down here for the times when he got intimate with his models. The rare times that happened. This time with Kurt was _certainly _a rarity. He came back around to the couch to find that Kurt was stroking himself. He got back on the couch and hovered over his model's body, slicking up his fingers with the rest of the lube in the bottle and tossing the empty thing over his shoulder; it clattered against the floor.

Sebastian's fingers were slick and cool inside of Kurt, as two of them entered all at once, stretching him and readying him. Kurt gasped breathlessly and stared at Sebastian as he worked, as Sebastian concentrated on the erotic image of his own fingers slicking in and out of Kurt's hole so quickly. He crooked them up suddenly and went slower, deeper, adding a third finger and thrusting it in more carefully. Kurt whined in response, biting down his already swollen lip, and Sebastian let his eyes sweep over Kurt's entire body, over the perfect, pale skin at the blush that had spread all over it, over Kurt's beautiful face with frustrated brows and long lashes splayed across his cheeks. He was taking it so good, and if Sebastian could've stopped right now and painted this filthy picture, he would have.

Sebastian was so hard and so eager to fuck Kurt that he stopped abruptly, and picked the condom up from the couch cushion. He tore it open with his teeth and Kurt opened his eyes again at the noise, as it ripped through the eerily quiet room. It was silent now besides the sound of their breathing. As Sebastian rolled the condom over himself, Kurt stared up at a crack in the ceiling, trying to contain his breath, trying to find himself in the moment, trying to remember this, because he never wanted to forget it.

Sebastian hovered over Kurt, holding himself up with one hand, and lined himself up with Kurt's entrance, and Kurt willingly opened his legs wider, wrapping them around Sebastian's lower back, angling his hips up. Sebastian had to use one hand to guide himself inside of Kurt, the tip of his cock breaching Kurt's tight entrance. Both of them moaned at the sensation, Kurt at the sudden stretch, and Sebastian at the tightness and wetness. Sebastian's hips rolled forward slowly, and he filled Kurt, solid and firm and hot, after not much longer. Kurt barely had a moment to catch his breath before Sebastian was leaning forward on his elbows, thrusting into Kurt with a steadier motion, beginning to fuck him and making his body bounce against the couch.

"Oh, _shit,_ oh my god." Sebastian looked down at their waists, at his cock sliding in and out of Kurt, at Kurt's hips as they rocked up erratically to meet his every quickened thrust.

"Sebastian—" Kurt gripped Sebastian's firm shoulders, staring downwards as well at his body, at their bodies as they moved together. Eventually Kurt tilted his head up and captured Sebastian's lips in a wet, mouthy kiss. Sebastian grunted into it and kissed him back. Their tongues met and wrapped around each other as Sebastian continued to fuck him. Kurt felt his orgasm coming back in waves almost instantly. He wasn't going to last long because _god _this felt so sinfully fucking good, Sebastian was hitting him right and his legs were shaking out of his control and his mind was reeling and oh my god—

His head lulled back, he shut his eyes he clutched Sebastian closer, pressing his flushed chest into Sebastian's stronger pecks, and his thighs trembled so hard that he could no longer control them.

"God, Seb, I'm coming, I'm—"

Kurt groaned, loud and clear and full of ecstasy, as he shook through his orgasm and his cock spewed come all over his stomach, all over Sebastian, all over the couch.

Sebastian couldn't last much longer after seeing that; he arched back and grunted Kurt's name in rapid succession as he emptied himself inside of the boy beneath him.

He panted after he finished, and gazed down at Kurt, who was panting too. Those beautiful, glasz eyes were covered in a leftover, lustblown haze as they stared up into his. Kurt looked impossibly good lying there beneath him naked, his lips parted as they took in air.

Sebastian stared at him wordlessly, studying him. Kurt wished that he had something to say, weren't you supposed to say something after things like this? but he didn't. He closed his eyes and relaxed on the couch. After some time, he felt Sebastian's hand curling around his face again affectionately, like it had at the start.

Sebastian ran his thumb across the ridge of Kurt's cheekbone and then kissed him there, soft and sweet.

"Stay right there," he said.

Kurt opened his eyes and Sebastian was standing up from the couch. He was moving around the room quickly, artist in a tunnel-driven search for his tools, picking things up and looking under them, digging through things on the desk until he found the specific set of paints and brushes that he was looking for.

Kurt watched as Sebastian came back around to the easel. He replaced the canvas in front of him with a large, thick piece of watercolor paper instead. Still naked, still slightly covered in a sheath of his own sweet, with darker, damper hair, Sebastian stared sketching something lightly on the paper with a previously discarded pencil.

"You're going to draw me naked?" Kurt asked, mostly in disbelief. He sat up a little on the couch, but still reclined against the arm.

Sebastian continued drawing, glancing to Kurt here and there. "It'd be a shame if I didn't," he said.

"What should I do?" Kurt said. He was lying partially on his side, he had his legs slightly curled, and his spent cock was resting in his lap. His hair wasn't as nice as it'd been before. He was sure that he was still covered in a sea of his own red blush.

But Sebastian thought that he looked heavenly, looked perfect. Kurt looked his best in the afterglow of sex, he decided, slightly worn out, but still with a leftover, errant look of lust in those god damn gorgeous eyes.

"Nothing," Sebastian told him. "Where you are right now is absolutely perfect."

Kurt smiled faintly, settling a little and getting comfortable. And as Sebastian painted him this time, he talked. He talked about the basement they were in, about the dark red and slate gray color scheme. He asked Sebastian questions about how long he'd been using this as his work space, and why he'd started drawing and painting in the first place. Sebastian answered each one all while still staying focused, all while still grazing his eyes over his lovely, nude model. Kurt's eyes were wandering around a bit, but he didn't mind. He used color this time, to capture Kurt's elegant flush, and let the dark brown lines of Kurt's bodily outline curve more, swell more, breathe more.

When he was done, about forty minutes in, he signed and titled it,

_His body is more divine than I ever could've imagined._

"Oh my god."

When Kurt came up to see the painting, he stared at it in awe. It was less structured than the first one had been, but it was more alive, more bright, more awakened, more moving. The reds and peaches and pinks and browns were warm and vibrant and lovely. The greens and blues in his eyes were cool, sharp, and icy, piercing the viewer. It was a perfect portrait of nakedness, in its most open and simplest form. Kurt sat back into Sebastian's lap, satisfied with the art, and Sebastian wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist.

"You're really, really good at this," Kurt said, as Sebastian kissed his way up his shoulder and neck.

"I know," he answered plainly.

Kurt looked back at him and rolled his eyes. Sebastian smirked.

"But I'd be nothing without my inspiration, my models," he continued. "My _model._"

Sebastian and Kurt stared at each other for a moment, and then Kurt was leaning in, pressing soft, lazy, wet, consistent kisses to Sebastian's lips. Sebastian smiled into each and every one of them, flexing his hands over Kurt's perfect little hipbones.

And they stayed there wrapped up in each other for hours, in Sebastian's basement; Sebastian taking his time and memorizing Kurt's form, physically and emotionally, and Kurt letting himself be cherished, be adored, be painted.

(+)

Eight years later, in a small art museum in New York.

The Boy With The Glasz Eyes collection was opening that night in Sebastian's private loft museum, and people with glasses of red wine were walking to and fro across the wooden floors, staring up in admiration at the same, gorgeous model, painted in all different sorts of settings. Some pieces were huge, with Kurt's body contrasted against acrylic seas of dark, twisted, complicated color, and others were small, Kurt's body in a coffee shop, pencil on white paper, simple, clean. Dated from the winter of 2012.

Kurt was there, walking alongside all of the guests, staring up at the painted pictures of himself like he did whenever he saw Sebastian finish them for the very first time. He was so thrilled that Sebastian had finally made his dream a reality two years ago, by opening up his own studio and exhibit.

And now this, his most recent collection, and his favorite collection, as he often claimed, was up on display. Sebastian's pride and joy was up on the walls for everyone else to fall in love with, just like he did.

"You're the one in the paintings, aren't you?"

Two young women were glancing over at Kurt, recognizing his distinctive figure.

"Yeah," Kurt told them, smiling. "I'm the artist's husband."

"Aww," one of them cooed. "That's _so_ cute."

"He must really love you," the other said. "There are hundreds of these!"

"Yes, well, he's had a lot of practice," Kurt noted.

He turned over his shoulder to stare at his husband across the way. Sebastian was talking with a few important so-and-so's, being interview about the collection. He broke eye contact with them for a moment and glanced over at his model, his Kurt. He smiled and nodded at him, and Kurt smiled back.

"And I really love him too," Kurt finished.


End file.
